it started out as game nights spread over several weeks – a drop of a gesture, a joke or a memory – casual-subtle enough to be brushed over or to be forgotten but cumulatively, and i shall say, very cumulatively, they all point towards something of a stance, a way of carrying’s oneself in this world. suddenly it all kind of clicked, and there was no escaping once you are caught.
so began the many interrogations over tea, terrible beer, water, and margaritas. i do not know how to make of this affront of him, where every word and sentence will lead to other questions and revelations, a branching of possibilities firing off in every direction. on the outset, i am tired, but all the same, intrigued.
‘otherwise, you will be sad.’
perkaraperkara 